EvernKillian
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The best place to start is at the beginning, and Harry supposes it all began with the mysterious Professor H. J. Prewett. Years 1 through 7.
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Bookmarked by Evern (EvernKillian)
28 Nov 2022
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𝗦𝗶𝗻𝗲 𝗤𝘂𝗮 𝗡𝗼𝗻 𝘣𝘺 𝘈𝘻𝘢𝘳𝘋𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳
S͟u͟m͟m͟a͟r͟y͟:
The best place to start is at the beginning, and Harry supposes it all began with the mysterious Professor H. J. Prewett. Years 1 through 7.
―
fav parts
"He's famous," George replies from around a bite of potato, and were it anyone else, Harry'd say his voice is gushing. "Not as famous as you, mate. But famous enough. Has his own frog card and everything. Hear it's worth a lot, too."
"Travels all over the world, hunting nasty beasties," Fred continues at Harry's blank look, and he almost seems star-struck as he casts a glance at the head table.
"That thing with the Nundu made international headlines,"
—
"He isn't a bad man, Harry. Just strict. Potions may not seem like it, but it's among the most dangerous material taught here," Prewett says then. "It's so very easy for a potion to go horribly wrong with a single missed step or ingredient. There's room for innovation or improvisation but not at your current level. It isn't unheard of for people to become seriously injured or even die during a potions accident."
—
There's a moment of stark silence before Snape lets out something that's the lovechild of a snort and chuckle.
"This is utterly ridiculous," he tells them then before turning to Prewett and lifting one hand into the air. " You are utterly ridiculous. This is… This is insane. You've rescued a student and another professor, battled Slytherin's monster, defeated a fifty-year-old phantom, wrecked the largest room in the castle, and you just stand here. Like this is something you do every day."
There's a pause then. As if no one quite knows what to say.
"It all turned out okay though," Prewett points out weakly. "I mean, we can fix everything. The hall and tables-"
Snape laughs then. It's a terrifying sound. Part amusement, part hysteria.
Some of the faculty seems to agree with Harry's assessment, already backing towards the basilisk. Dumbledore opens his mouth. Only to close it again before saying anything. Prewett looks at him helplessly. McGonagall just closes her eyes as she bites her lip. Flitwick puts his head in his hands, while Sprout gently pats him on the shoulder.
Snape keeps laughing. So hard he starts making small wheezing sounds and has to lean forward with hands on his knees.
"I think that I broke him," Prewett says then, utterly flummoxed.
That only makes Snape laugh harder.
—
"Mummy and daddy are still fighting, I see," George comments and digs an elbow into Harry's side.
—
Prewett blinks at him. Once and then again. As if it hasn't occurred to him that people would notice he and Snape are more than just colleagues. It's rather strange actually, now that Harry considers it. Pretty much the whole school knows that they're friends. It's obvious.
—
No one really knows how Luna's doing half the time. Her essays are typically on topic but filled with such obscure references that the professors actually have to look them up. Flitwick, Harry knows, takes this as something of a personal challenge. McGonagall just rolls her eyes, while Sprout seems put out, and Snape rewards her full points for excellent spelling, grammar, and syntax. Remus just seems to like her use of bullet points.
—
Things are looking up after that. Ron and Seamus both nearly have heart attacks when they go to the Great Hall Monday morning to see Prewett and Snape seated next to each other. The looks of utter shock are echoed on several faces, not the least of which are those of the professors. Flitwick beams the entire meal, and Harry swears that he sees Remus and Vector exchanging money with Sinistra, while Sprout and Babbling high-five. McGonagall momentarily looks like the cat that ate the canary before she can school her face into its more appropriate severity, while Hagrid is oddly red-cheeked behind his beard. Dumbledore simply gives everyone a twinkle-eyed look and hums to himself.
—
"Flamel… As in Nicholas Flamel?" Harry can't contain his shock. "He's still alive?"
Prewett looks at him. He seems honestly quite puzzled.
"Why wouldn't he be?"
—
"You speak French."
The man offers him a smile. "A beautiful girl named Gabrielle taught me years ago."
His voice is almost wicked but somehow also wistful. Snape gives him a very strange look.
—
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Summary
Atsumu has a secret he's trusted, heart and soul, with Kiyoomi. One that involves an allergy and bananas. Kiyoomi practically loses his mind as the universe seems to try and thwart his attempts to Atsumu safe from the devil's food: bananas. Atsumu thinks it's dumb. Kiyoomi just doesn't want him to die in some freak banana accident.
Bananas 1. Sakusa 0.
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Bookmarked by Evern (EvernKillian)
22 Apr 2026
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You Drive Me Bananas by spanano
Summary:Atsumu has a secret he's trusted, heart and soul, with Kiyoomi. One that involves an allergy and bananas. Kiyoomi practically loses his mind as the universe seems to try and thwart his attempts to Atsumu safe from the devil's food: bananas. Atsumu thinks it's dumb. Kiyoomi just doesn't want him to die in some freak banana accident.
Bananas 1. Sakusa 0.
―fav parts
“I just don’t understand,” Kiyoomi groaned, tipping his head back. “He has this… thing. That he won’t tell the rest of the team about and I feel like the world is actively trying to kill my boyfriend.”
Motoya bit his lip as he watched Kiyoomi begin to pace back and forth. He stole a look to Sunarin, who simply shrugged, and went back to watching his cousin. “Have you thought about just telling the team, or Meian, what the thing is? And if he gets pissed, just tell him it’s for his own well-being? You’re clearly losing your mind right now, Kiyo. And stress is not a good look on you.”
Kiyoomi felt his eye twitch and he glowered at Motoya. “That. Might have been one of the stupidest things you’ve ever told me or suggested that I ever do.” Kiyoomi might die. This is where his life ends. By committing homicide and then getting locked in jail, going on a hunger strike because dammit, Atsumu makes the best food (don’t tell Osamu), and he would refuse to eat prison food on principle. What principle? It didn’t matter. “I can’t just betray him like that?”“I think it’s actually detrimental to the health of both of you.” Motoya deadpanned, rolling his eyes at the sheer obstinance Kiyoomi was displaying right now. “Because you have a vein popping out of your forehead and from what you’ve described to me, it sounds like Miya is actively being targeted by the gods for whatever affront he committed and offended them with.”
“Helpful.” Kiyoomi muttered dryly, his eyes drifting over to where his boyfriend was now sitting and doing post-match stretches with Suna. He squinted. There was, thankfully, no food over there for the time being so nothing that could outwardly kill Atsumu with immense purpose. Save for if a light fell from the arena ceiling and crushed the poor, unsuspecting blond under its weight.Kiyoomi shook his head. He was overthinking the gods and their intent with Atsumu.
—
It’s weeks later when bananas somehow enter their lives again. This time Osamu of all people is to blame for it and Kiyoomi could actually throttle the man. Throw him off a cliff. Drop kick him out of an airplane. Yeet his body off a ship and into the frigid cold of the Antarctic Ocean.
—
It all started with an uncomfortable clearing of his throat. Kiyoomi glanced over. Atsumu’s hazel eyes were wide as he stared down at his plate. “Omi.” He rasped, making a gesture to the bananas on the plate and then a slightly more frantic one to his reddening face, hives creeping up his neck, and tightening throat. “Omi--”“Shit,” Kiyoomi immediately sprung into action, Meian immediately calling over to them from the other side of the table to ask what was wrong. Kiyoomi ignored him as he frantically dug through their stuff to hunt down Atsumu’s Epipen. “Shit, shit, shit.” Where was it? Where was it?? He always had one on them-- they both did-- Atsumu’s allergy to bananas and peanuts far too severe to go anywhere without at least one. Had they forgotten to restock after the most recent banana incident? Kiyoomi was internally kicking himself. How could he be so stupid?
“Atsumu?” Barnes asked, hesitantly. “Are you okay? Meian-- I think--”
There was a flurry of activity around Kiyoomi, but he paid no mind to it; his breath hitched, as he dug and dug, and dug.
Someone, thankfully, had the sense to that the moment they saw Atsumu struggling for breath and Kiyoomi was on autopilot as he shoved the hem of Atsumu’s shorts up and immediately stabbed his thigh with the Epipen. He capped it and tossed it to the side, hand gripping gently to Atsumu’s cheek. “Hey.” Hazel eyes, wide and fearful, met his. “You’re gonna be okay. Stabbed you with your least favourite thing in the world and someone was intelligent and called an ambulance. Look at me, ‘Tsumu. Eyes on me. We’ve done this before. We can do it again. You'll be okay.” Atsumu nodded silently.
―
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“Tell me stories about your soulmate. That’s the only thing I don’t know about you.”
“My soulmate…” Atsumu trailed off but never broke eye contact, “He’s a bit of a stuck up asshole, ya know?”
Sakusa only stared back in response.
“He never draws back, after the age of around seven or so he stopped. I left drawin’ after drawin’ with no response fer years and years. My twin even covered my arm with dicks and stuff and he didn’t respond.”
Atsumu swallowed thickly,
“He--uh-- I guess he might be a clean freak if ya think about it like tha’... and maybe he didn’t like all those drawings I left him.”
Sakusa, without breaking eye contact, said,
“I’m sure they made him smile once or twice.”
—
Or a Sakusa and Atsumu Soulmate AU where the drawings you make on your skin also show up on your soulmate.
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Bookmarked by Evern (EvernKillian)
22 Apr 2026
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Small Graces by skeletonofaplant
Summary:"Tell me stories about your soulmate. That’s the only thing I don’t know about you.”
“My soulmate…” Atsumu trailed off but never broke eye contact, “He’s a bit of a stuck up asshole, ya know?”
Sakusa only stared back in response.
“He never draws back, after the age of around seven or so he stopped. I left drawin’ after drawin’ with no response fer years and years. My twin even covered my arm with dicks and stuff and he didn’t respond.”
Atsumu swallowed thickly,
“He--uh-- I guess he might be a clean freak if ya think about it like tha’... and maybe he didn’t like all those drawings I left him.”
Sakusa, without breaking eye contact, said,
“I’m sure they made him smile once or twice.”
—
Or a Sakusa and Atsumu Soulmate AU where the drawings you make on your skin also show up on your soulmate.
―fav parts
Atsumu wasn’t one who was afraid of being perceived by strangers as immature. He didn’t mind the stares he received on the train, and he received a lot of attention for the obscene drawings that decorated his body. His parents especially didn’t like the idea of their son parading through the streets covered in dicks and whatever else Osamu had decided to draw.
And greedily, he swallowed all the attention he got.
But the attention from strangers was in no way as satisfying as the attention that he truly desired. The attention that he craved deep down.
Truly, he wanted a reaction out of his soulmate.
That was why he never washed his arm and never accepted wet wipes or hand sanitizer or any other method of help that had been offered to him. That’s why he sat perfectly still while Osamu coated his arms in ink as he pretended to be asleep.
Whether or not Osamu knew his twin was faking, Atsumu did not know.
Call it twin telepathy, but Osamu had a freaky ability of reading Atsumu without a word needing to be exchanged between the two of them. And it appeared that his twin had picked up on Atsumu’s desperate need for attention from his soulmate.
Osamu being the one who covered his arms was just a convenient way for him to not feel like a desperate loser. Even if the receiver of the drawings had no idea that it was their soulmate’s twin drawing the dicks, the roundabout method saved Atsumu’s pride and dignity.
If Atsumu could be the artist, he would leave the dicks and the volleyballs (but maybe tone them down a touch) and he would add sunsets, flowers, hearts, grass, bugs, pencils, anything that he saw throughout the day. Correction—Everything that he saw throughout the day.
He would draw the things that made him smile and he would hope that his soulmate smiled too.
But he was not the artist.
Osamu was the artist because his soulmate had made it abundantly clear that they were not interested.
—
For one, Sakusa let Atsumu touch his arm frequently. And yet, even though it appeared he had the permission, Atsumu never let his touch linger for too long. Never let his touch stray anywhere off limits. Secondly, they knew far too much about each other. Sakusa could flawlessly recount Atsumu’s daily routine, while Atsumu seemed to know every single class Sakusa had taken during his college years.
—
Being with Atsumu felt like the easiest thing Sakusa had ever done.
His parents had been right— a soulmate was someone who would love you unconditionally.
He almost felt like laughing at his younger self for ever doubting the Universe. For ever thinking he was too difficult to love. The thought presented itself as absurd now that he was in the presence of a man who understood Sakusa all the way to the strings that made up his fibers.
Atsumu had caught him like a kid caught a butterfly. Had held his wings down and studied the patterns without restraint.
And for some inexplicable reason, it was this that made Sakusa love him.
It had been uncomfortable at first. It had been unsettling. But it had also been tremendously easy.
He didn’t have to explain his odd behaviors. Never once had to apologize for being harsh. Atsumu took him as he was, and never asked for change.
Their lives intertwined with the ease Sakusa had always craved from life.
―
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Summary
50 years ago, Tom Riddle’s soul was sealed into a diary, helplessly trapped within its pages. For decades, he sought to escape this prison of his own design.
So when a boy named Harry Potter begins writing to him, Tom seizes the opportunity to achieve his freedom. Harry is shockingly easy to possess, after all. Yet for some reason, Harry can retain consciousness while possessed, and worse, he can take control back. Being possessed by Tom doesn’t even seem to do anything to drain his vitality.
If Tom didn’t know better, he’d say that Harry’s soul was somehow used to sharing a body with Tom’s own. But that was impossible, wasn’t it?
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Bookmarked by Evernie (EvernKillian)
24 Sep 2025
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Work/Series Details
His Most Prized Possession by Darkfire315
Updated: 2025-09-23
Work/Series ID: 68877586Relationship Tags:
• Harry Potter/Tom Riddle
• Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort
• Horcrux/Harry Potter
• Harry Potter/Diary Tom Riddle
• Harry Potter & Tom Riddle
• Harry Potter/VoldemortWork/Series Summary:
50 years ago, Tom Riddle’s soul was sealed into a diary, helplessly trapped within its pages. For decades, he sought to escape this prison of his own design.
So when a boy named Harry Potter begins writing to him, Tom seizes the opportunity to achieve his freedom. Harry is shockingly easy to possess, after all. Yet for some reason, Harry can retain consciousness while possessed, and worse, he can take control back. Being possessed by Tom doesn’t even seem to do anything to drain his vitality.
If Tom didn’t know better, he’d say that Harry’s soul was somehow used to sharing a body with Tom’s own. But that was impossible, wasn’t it?
(Approximate) Last Read: 2025/09/24
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Summary
Tom was sent to cleanse a demon, to banish darkness in the name of faith. But what awaited him was something fragile, a fleeting shadow of innocence. A boy, beautiful and vulnerable.
But not all things are as they seem, and some devotions bend in the dark. Father Tom Riddle finds himself drawn into a web of temptation, and he was never meant to walk away unburned.
Bookmarked by Evernie (EvernKillian)
22 Apr 2026
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Sanctum Of Sin by Monochromedeath
Summary:Tom was sent to cleanse a demon, to banish darkness in the name of faith. But what awaited him was something fragile, a fleeting shadow of innocence. A boy, beautiful and vulnerable.
But not all things are as they seem, and some devotions bend in the dark. Father Tom Riddle finds himself drawn into a web of temptation, and he was never meant to walk away unburned.
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